


Bae Bae

by perignonpink



Category: Korean Actor RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perignonpink/pseuds/perignonpink





	Bae Bae

It was like straight muscle to bone, no fat whatsoever to cushion the blow. He got a wry look for the reminder, sultry half-hooded lids made even heavier by alcohol and a lack of control over the saliva that came out when he spat back his reply.

“I'm _pacing_ myself.” He wasn't by a long shot, but what was there that he could do?

 

 

“ _Try to keep an eye on me tonight.”_

The words kept reverberating in his head, the inadvertent promise Jung WooSung had made to his long time friend to keep him safe and sober repeating in that deeply lilted voice just from memory. He could use some music to drown it out, one of ByungHun's end of year blowouts where there was as much noise as there were drunken decisions, it felt too  _daunting_ to take on a task like this.

“I'm not disagreeing, I just think it's a matter of opinion.” Of course, he may have been jumping the gun on feeling boxed in. Lee JungJae had never demanded of him to be his babysitter, just a gentle reminder of how and who he was. He drank, sometimes to extremes, and the fact that their live-in landlord threw at least four parties a month didn't help the fact that, when he did, it wasn't far to imagine that he would begin acting out. Two or three frozen margaritas and gentle discourse could easily come to blows, a friendly smile could result in a closet handjob, the minute amount of food he ate could come back _up_. But he was pacing himself tonight. WooSung had kept a careful eye, too afearing of the possible consequences to take his own drink in the hours in between, and JungJae was the picture of the perfect party guest. There had been no drunken slurs of indignant outrage uttered, no overly affectionate and painfully transparent laughs made at jokes far too unfunny to warrant the flirtatious reaction, the responsibility seemed to have been lifted from his slightly hunched shoulders and WooSung felt all too happy to let out a breath of relief and let off a little steam. One or two drinks of his own surely couldn't hurt.

 

How wrong he'd been to think like this, to trust him even though he sorely wanted to.

“You pipsqueak, you short little fuck.” He must have been minimizing his drinks only in theory, did it honestly even count when he ate so little that a drop of aged _vinegar_ could conceivably get him wasted. One of the people he'd last seem him with must have struck a nerve, when JungJae was drinking it seemed all of them were exposed because he seemed ready to fight the less steady he got on his feet, “Say that again to my face, you dog.” His voice didn't need to be raised too high for WooSung to hear it, his ears had picked up the sound over that of the ice knocking against the side of his own glass as he'd gone to take a drink. Maybe he'd had too many, because he was slower to react than he should have been after being asked such a thing earlier in the night.

“ _Try to keep an eye on me tonight.”_

He  _was_ trying but he'd thought that things were going alright.

“ _JungJae_...!” There was advantage in his long stride, WooSung managing to reach what had turned physical before much damage could be done, if any saving grace at all JungJae was sloppy when inebriated and today was no exception as he pulled him, half toppled from his own swing, against his own less than cavalier body, “Stop it, JungJae.”  
“Don't fucking _touch_ me.” He couldn't take it personally, JungJae was angry and out for a fight, but being so tall he still had the advantage in spite of being shorter on intent. As he pulled him from the once lively parlor and back towards the bedrooms, WooSung heard as someone, most likely ByungHun, finally saw fit to turn up the music in their wake. Anything to drown out the liquor fueled fury coming from the skinny man now in bondage.

 

“Stop, _please_ -ow. JungJae!” He hadn't ceased in resisting the unceremonious exit, WooSung barely able to open the door with his enraged flailing within his grip, let alone closing it again as he stumbled on his own socially drunken feet to find somewhere safe to place him. Letting him go would only result in a mad dash to continue his near assault on their guest BeomSoo or, much more likely, an attempted rebuttal against WooSung himself for daring to step in like he'd been asked. There seemed one likely option, WooSung erring only a moment before he had no other recourse from the swipes and irritated struggling attacks, dumping JungJae to his back on the mattress before placing his hands on his wrists to hold his arms tight. He didn't want him to damage his beautiful face, or to land a blow and break his under-nourished fingers, in a word, WooSung didn't want to see him in pain, _period_ , but it was hard to word that when JungJae went out of his way to put himself in these situations, “...Are you done yet?” He must have looked ridiculous kneeling over him like this, such a large body making itself small enough in order to maintain a center of gravity when it came to controlling his friend. He was whining in frustration, upset and annoyed that his anger hadn't come to anything, eyes half lidded as his thin chest heaved with the effort of once raising his voice, “...y-you're going to hurt yourself.”

“Mh, _WooSung_...” He sounded disappointed, whether it was in him or in himself WooSung couldn't tell, his own consumption leaving his head spinning after such a delayed yet quick reaction and a lack of clarity coming through in spite of how he was willing it. A puff of breath escaped JungJae's lips as he allowed his head to drop to the side, breathing still shallow but his eyebrows no longer furrowed and angry, WooSung didn't dare move, briefly toying with the idea that he was only playing at regaining himself and just wanted to get a headstart for his next aggression, “...you're so _strong_.”

 

It wasn't that he'd never considered the idea but that he'd never let it get too in depth for fear of reprisal should he be found out. Outside of a party JungJae wasn't nearly so, WooSung hesitated with the word  _loose_ but it fit JungJae like the front of his pants were seeming now.

“I feel so _helpless_...” The tone to his voice had changed drastically, no longer aggravated and causing further reaction to WooSung's own love starved body. When did he have time to pick up when he was so busy making amends for JungJae's mistakes at parties? When could he find time outside of the house with the way they were connected at the hip during the off-peak times and still working for ByungHun whether that was what he called it or not? When _would_ he when the view of JungJae in the mornings with his svelte shirtless body and tousled hair sent him into a giddy frenzy over the breakfast he would prepare two and one quarter portions of to feed all their residents?, “...I love you for looking out for me like this.” It was difficult to tell whose lips had connected with whose first, WooSung more than eager by now but JungJae no slouch, despite his physical trappings, head already stretched up and eyes preparedly closed.

“ _Mnh_...” Their tongues had no such hesitation as WooSung had before at choosing the bed, sliding into each other's mouths without a hint of grace as his hands tensed around skinny wrists and drove his body insane already with renewed and reciprocated lust. JungJae wanted him, the thought brought ever more grateful moans from his throat as WooSung began to understand the burning need to let the drink take over. He would _never_ have acted on this sober, maybe neither would JungJae, he didn't know, but right now they were going for it and he wanted to ensure they both reached it complete.

 

JungJae's thin body was writhing against the sheets, WooSung panting against his hair as he rolled his hips in and felt moist fabric rub against warm cotton.

“O-oh, yes...” He'd never felt so turned on in his _life_. JungJae was underneath him, _moaning_ for him, arching his hips and sliding back to meet against him as he humped against his back in what could only be described as desperate precision. His hair smelled _fantastic_ , rich and deep as his voice as he let out appreciative moans beneath him and urged WooSung on. He was so vocal, so achingly beautiful in every way that WooSung couldn't help himself in wanting more. Why had they come into this room again? He could hardly remember it being for any other reason than sex as he ground in against him and felt that perky little butt, the one part of him that may have stored the unburned off sugar from his drinking, vibrate almost around the pouch of his hard erection. He couldn't stand it anymore, whimpering in his own soft way and fumbling to pull his cotton panties down to his thighs, JungJae offering no such help on his own as he sighed in drunken contentment. Saliva was the best WooSung could do under the circumstances and the sight of the thick liquid being swallowed up along with himself was almost enough to make him lose it entirely, “Oh _shit_ , J- _JungJae_...” He was whining with tremulous delight, panting out himself already as hips shook in place and JungJae grunted to be the one having to start this off.

“...Don't you know what you're _doing_?” He wanted to know if he got this far with other men or if he was the first he'd allowed in a drunken haze, “Mh...p-pull it _out_ a bit then stick it back _in_.”

“O-okay.” He was taking the direction with obedience, almost like how he took direction from ByungHun in cleaning the house as JungJae would flick through a magazine bored, “ _Unh_...y-your ass is like _rice cake_.”

“Mnh, _fuck_...! D-do that again...” He couldn't tell if the music out in the den had gotten louder or if that was his heartbeat he was hearing now in his head, hand applying pressure once more to the firm but cushioned buttock, fingertips digging in and bringing forth an uncharacteristic whine of vulnerability, “...o- _oh_ , oh, WooSung...” He wasn't only playing it up out of intoxicated desires, he was _enjoying_ it. So much so that WooSung had almost forgotten himself and what he'd gotten into until JungJae tensed and arched back his hips.

“O-oh, god...”

“... _WooSung_...t-take care of me...” There were no other thoughts going through his head, his own hips lifting before he plunged back in and squeezed firmly at the same time, reveling as JungJae let out a broken groan, for _once_ , not of irritation.

 

“How's your head feeling?” WooSung felt as though his face could already portray this to ByungHun's curiosities, the deep fryer already working on the potassium enriched hangover cure of battered banana that he was currently brewing black coffee to accompany, “Where did you and JungJae get off to anyway last night, I don't think I saw you for the rest of the evening.” ByungHun knew where they went, he wasn't one to let on but he kept a good eye out himself and had been since first inviting the two to move in. It was one of the reasons he'd always encouraged JungJae to ask for WooSung's help instead of his own when he lost control because he'd seen what they were dancing around coming from a mile off. It just so happened that his usual parties were a fantastic time to drink enough to get their soft shoes off.

 


End file.
